Second Chances
by Psamyad
Summary: Buffy's mum is worried about her teenage daughter and sends her away for the summer. One blonde brat meets another, but they have to part again. Read what happens when they meet next.Finished. Disclaimer: I do not own the characters.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Welcome young delinquents

Buffy put her bag down on one of the beds. She stepped up to a window and looked at the trees outside.

Just the way to spend the summer: in a wood, with criminals, and no mall in sight.

Ok, so she had burned down the school, but to put her into a summer camp for delinquent juveniles was taking things a bit too far. Mum had freaked when Buffy had been taken home that night by the police. And to make things worse, the police officer had not hesitated to tell Joyce that her daughter was a menace to society. Just because she had been wielding a stake when he had come up to her outside the burning school. She had to make sure, after all. But Joyce had not been interested in Buffy's attempts at explaining. She had sent her daughter to the summer camp of hell. Buffy choked back a sob. She had never asked to be a slayer. She just wanted to be normal, a teenager, and spend her summer at home with her friends.

"You okay?"

Buffy turned around, wiping her eyes. A girl about her age stood in the door. "Yeah, sure. I just noticed the –the lack of –"

"fun around here? Well, it's up to us. I'm Chloe. I'm a 'wayward child'."

Buffy cocked her eyebrows "A what?"

"Oh, let's just say that my idea of a Saturday night differs from that of my dad – a lot."

"Oh. I'm Buffy. I'm – let's just say my way of 'bringing down the house ' turned a bit too literal for my mum's liking."

Chloe grinned at her mischievously. "Hey, it's Saturday evening, we are two young and eager girls. I'm sure we can bring some joy to this dark place after all. And I know just the place to start!"

Sunday morning, when the guides had recovered, Buffy was sentenced to help out in the kitchen for the rest of her camp-time.

When she arrived for her first shift, the cook advised her to peel potatoes.

"Just sit down next to Blondie there, and don't waste too much!"

Buffy complied and walked up to the bloke sitting with his back to her. "No way have I ever seen such a bad hair job" she thought to herself. She sat down at the table. "Hi, I'm Buffy. I'm here to help."

Blondie looked up from his work.

"Oh, I feel very honoured." Sarcasm wasn't only dripping, it was running in streaks from his words. Buffy sat down without any more words and started peeling.

Soon she got bored with her task. She started to cast curious glances at her companion.

"So, what's your name?"

"Spike"

"S'cuse me?"

"Spike. My name is SPIKE"

""Really? That is so strange. I recently broke up with a guy named Pike, isn't that funny?"

"For the boy?"

Buffy looked up from her potato. "That's so not what I meant. I just meant – I just wanted to be sociable. And if you don't want to talk at all, fine, let's just sit here and bore each other to death. FINE!"

About five minutes later, Spike found that the girl meant to stick to her words. Which was ok, but, well, he really should make the best of having company for once. He looked up at the girl. Sitting there with a pout, pretending to be completely absorbed in her work. She was young, about 16 he guessed. Pretty, a bit spoilt judging from the way she treated her potato. Her face was scrunched up in annoyance, at the potato, at him, at her fate. And she was right. She should be anywhere but here.

"I hired onto that work here because I am terrible with money, and they pay alright. What' s your excuse?"

Buffy blushed. "Oh, I don't – no excuse. I just…burned down my school, then got sent to the camp, and then put some magic mushrooms into Saturday's stew.."

Spike chocked a breath. „You must be kiddin', luv. No way you could pull a stunt like that. I used to be pretty wild myself when I was your age, but that- that's just ..." Looking at Miss Teenage Dream here and replaying her last sentence, he couldn't help himself. The first chuckle led to a huge guffaw, which in turn made Buffy join the hysteria. It took a very stern looking cook to finally calm them down, but the ice between them was broken.

The huge amount of potatoes dwindled rapidly while they talked; Buffy was pleasantly surprised when she saw that they were down to the last handful. Despite their bad start, Spike had turned out to be very enjoyable company: a good listener, funny and interested. And from up close, the hair wasn't so bad. In fact, it formed a perfect contrast to his eyes, brought them out all the more. Come to think about it, Spike was actually pretty cute.

And so her time of punishment passed rather pleasantly. She chatted her chores away with Spike in the kitchen, cutting, peeling and cleaning up. She actually began to look forward to their kitchen work, which was way more fun than all these "sociable behaviour-trainings " and "face your innermost fear"-sessions. With Spike, she could discuss her feelings without any fear of being put into an institution. She did not dare to tell him about her slayerness, but she spoke about her place in the world, about her dreams and wishes for her future, and about her fear that not one of them might come true. And even though Spike only knew half of her story, he understood. He knew about failure, because he considered himself to be one. He felt her disorientation in a world where prettiness is a major achievement and where any thoughts that did not include nail polish or hair scream "Nerd". With Buffy, he soon learned, looks were deceiving; the California girl harbored thoughts any serious Goth would be proud of. One night he had waited for her outside her cabin. She had come out and they had sat together, looking for shooting stars. She had talked about death then, and he got the feeling that she knew what she was talking about. He was ten years her senior, and thankfully he had never seen someone die. Somehow, he felt very young next to her, almost inferior. He had done his studies, decided to travel around for a bit before starting a career, and got stuck in the States, doing odd jobs to pay for his living, and skillfully avoiding any real decision making. And here was this girl, talking about fate and pain and responsibility, as if she had already been living her life. Yet she was so enthusiastic about things, a real teenager when it came to romance. Spike knew very well that she was a minor, and he felt the suspicious looks of his superiors on him, and did not act on her adoring glances. But he felt them, and they kept him awake most of the night. He nearly wished for the summer to end, so that he could move on. He had never been good with – girls. There, he couldn't even think of the words love, or relationship. His was the loner type, the one who looked, conquered, then shrugged and rode off into the sunset.

And such were his thoughts when one day a breathless, red-eyed Buffy came running up to his cabin. „I just got a letter from my mum. She has found a new job and we are now moving into some crap village no one has ever heard of. - She is so ashamed of me, she had to move away from LA. Isn't this the biggest joke of all? As if anyone there would care." Buffy couldn't stop the tears now. "I won't even get to say goodbye to my friends. Mum has already moved all of our stuff to Crapdale."

Spike didn't really know what to say to this new turn of things. She would leave – and he would stay. He put his arm around her, squeezing her reassuringly. "Things will be alright, Buffy. You can have a new start, something a lot of people dream about. You can show them who you are, what a special person you are."

Buffy continued to sniffle. "I'm a freak. I want to be normal, but I can't. There are things- things I don't understand, but they are scaring me, and I just can't handle all of this."

Spike took her face in his hands, making her look into his eyes. "Buffy, you can handle anything. You are exceptional. You're gonna show them all." Buffy looked into these eyes, realizing how serious they were. So that was it. The end. She would never see him again. As her heart broke, she gathered all her strength and kissed the man she loved goodbye.

And with that, Spike went out of her life.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

Willow screamed, trying to fend of the vampire that was hanging onto her. Buffy charged in, expertly dusting it.

"Stupid vampire. Where was I?"

"Buffy and the male doomedness"

"Oh, right –sigh – that. I mean, I'm not asking that much, am I? I just want to have someone who loves me, and whom I love. So I can't be with a vampire, because there lies badness, and I can't be with a normal guy either."

"Oh Buffy, just because it didn't quite work out with Owen doesn't mean you can't be with a regular guy. Dating is always hard, look at me."

"Oh Will, you are in dating heaven. You have found Oz, who is a nice compromise between regular and uber-natural. That's really cute, a witch and a werewolf.

Much, much cuter than a slayer and a schizo-vampire. Or a slayer and a wanna-be slayer. Have I ever told you about Pike? Believe me when I say that that did not end well."

"But Buffy, a lot of guys would love to go out with you. I know, I see them looking after you everytime we go out together. Which is fine with me, one part of a very happy couple here. But Buffy, you can date everyone you want."

Buffy grimaced. "Yeah, right." She fell silent. "You know the summer before we moved here? My mum was totally freaked when I got kicked out of school for burning down the gymn. Naturally she wouldn't want to hear about vampires and my calling. So she sent me to a summer camp for 'juvenile delinquents'."

Willow shrieked. "Buffy, that is so awful. How could Joyce do this to you?"

Buffy shrugged "It wasn't that bad. Sure, there were a lot of freaks, but you know I can handle myself. And I met a really nice guy there. His name was Spike –"

"The wanna-be slayer? But I thought-"

"No, that was Pike. Spike was something else. He was the real thing, funny and perceptive and caring – and damn sexy. I almost threw myself at his feet."

"And what happened? And how come you have never told me about this wonder of a man? Hey, best friend, remember?"

"There is nothing to tell. I threw myself at Spike – and he left. He was being all noble, 'I am ten years your senior' and 'you deserve something better'.. All I wanted was him – and I guess that's why I fell so hard for Angel – because he reminded me of him. You know, older, mysterious, and now I come to think of it, totally unlike each other. Whatever I said, Spike saw through me. He just knew me."

Willow patted her best friend's arm. She really had been through a lot. Being threatened to death by her boyfriend, kicking his butt to hell only to find him come back as a wild beast a couple of weeks later - my Goddess, Willow thought, and all the while she has been thinking of someone else, too. Phew. Remind me to thank all the deities tonight for making me an easy person with straightforward needs.

It was an ordinary Saturday night. Buffy had been at the Bronze, partying with her friends. Then she had left for patrol. While touring the second cemetery, she heard suspicious noises. A girl crying out, muffled laughter, her sensor tingling – vampires. Buffy started running.

When she neared the Johnson crypt, the noise turned into actual dialogue.

"Oi William, what do you think? A pretty piece of flesh, isn't she?"

Buffy rounded the crypt, stake poised ready for the staking. Right in front of her loomed a figure in a black leather coat, presenting its back to her. Buffy threw her hair back and made herself standing tall: "Oi William, so sorry to interrupt. You up for a pretty piece of kick-ass?"

The vamp before her turned around. Buffy looked into a pair of bright blue eyes. Took in the silver hair on its head. And its – still human – face.

"oh no. Please no. Spike?"

The vampire growled and changed into its demon form. This mortal had dared to disturb his feeding. It bared its fangs and prepared to charge at its enemy. Who was a young, fair woman of about twenty years. The demon shook its head – and changed involuntarily back into its human form. "Buffy?"

When Spike had left the summer camp, he had headed back to the big city. LA it was for him. Anything to distract him from an underage teenage girl, helplessly in love with him. And of to LA, but quickly!

Once he had arrived in the big city, Spike had taken his frustration to the next bar – where he had met his fate. A big guy had pretended to listen to his heartbroken complaint, then had proceeded to take him out of the bar and turn him – into a vampire. For Spike, it had been an incredible relief. He was free from all his doubts, his heartache and his worries- he was almighty now. Strong, and sure of his place in the world. Instead of waiting for something to happen, and constantly worrying about what was right, he just took whatever caught his fancy. And instead of doting on his master, he took him out asap and drank his blood, which made him strong far beyond his vampiric age. He formed his own gang. And brought them along to the Hellmouth, which he understood to be the demon worlds' party-town.

"Spike" she said in voice full of disbelief, and hope. And as much as William objected – Spike took charge. "Hi Buffy. I'd been counting on seeing you again."

"Like this? You must be kidding me. I kill your kind."

"I should have paid more attention to your tale then. Instead of being focused on the best way to get into your pants."

"As if. You were never interested in my pants. You were scared out of your wits."

The demon was off balance. "I wasn't!"

"Yes you were, you – loser!" Buffy screamed, and William received a massive punch into his more private parts.

Once inside her room, Buffy could hardly breathe. Spike, he was here, he was – dead. Dead. Worse, he was undead, a vampire, and therefore her enemy. She had just killed Angel, she couldn't do it again. She couldn't kill Spike. The thought of him had often kept her going in the last four years. As long as he was somewhere out there, she had felt a need to protect him, to kill all the evil so that he could continue to live. But she had not been good enough. She had let one monster escape. Buffy let out a roar, throwing her stake against her bedroom mirror. It shattered, and when she bent to look at the mess she had made, she looked at one hundred Buffys lying scattered over the floor. Two hundred tears formed in two hundred eyes. "I can't. I can't. I CAN'T!"

The following days, she went patrolling because she had to. Vampires kept coming at her, and she killed them because people were counting on her to do it. Giles was there, asking her about patrol and about how she was, wanting her to become better, faster, more deadly all the time. Only a killing slayer was a good slayer. Willow was there, asking her "are you okay" with the regularity of a clockwork. Xander was there, throwing her needy looks, and asking her about Angel's whereabouts every other minute. Joyce was there, hugging and pampering her, worrying herself sick about her daughter who had to protect all mankind. Angel was there, trying to be the non-evil, caring sort of ex-boyfriend you just want to be good friends with, and failing miserably.

One person wasn't there. The man who had listened to her when no one else would, the man who saw beyond her looks, the man who had been in her heart for the last four years, this man was gone. Instead, everytime she closed her eyes she saw his perverted face leering at her, this mockery of a man trying to replace her memory.

William trailed up and down the house they had taken up as lair. They would have to leave soon. Sunnydale wasn't half as much fun as LA, or come to think of it, much less fun than any city he had ever been to. You could eat people everywhere, and he could well do without the interruptions by the millions of other demons that roamed Sunnydale. He hadn't had a proper kill in days now.

"Oi William, we're hungry. Let's go out," Dave interrupted his thoughts.

"No, we don't. We stay put." William snarled.

"But the slayer won't be out now, it's too late – "

William had him pinned to the wall before he could finish.

"Who said anything about the slayer? I don't care about the slayer. I could kill her in a heartbeat. In fact, I am going to kill her." William released the other vampire and brushed of his clothing. "Get the boys ready. We're going out."

"Aye aye, sir!" Dave saluted, his relief for not being dead(er) now all too eminent. Once they got out of the cave, the gang stormed off hungrily looking for someone to eat. William was hungry, too.

But the night outside was beautiful, and William took some time to enjoy the cinescope his vampiric nature put over the scenery: grass and trees drawing nourishment from decomposing tissue, and little insects, all vibrating with life, making noises like some fake movie Chinese dialect. William held his face up to the moon, feeling its gravitational pull.

Buffy was dreaming. At first, it had been the usual stuff, killing things, running and fighting. Then, suddenly, things had become more intense. There were hands, touching her, and then there were tongues, tasting her all over. Hands were exploring her body, and the tongues were licking at her, and then lips were caressing her lips, and then her neck, and then her breasts, and then she couldn't tell the sensations apart anymore but started panting, and moaning, and awoke with the feeling of a massive loss which made her cry without really knowing why. While Buffy got up to use the bathroom, a shadow cowered next to her window, biting its nuckles and drawing blood to calm down.

In the morning Buffy went down into the kitchen to grab some breakfast before heading of to school.

"Good Morning Buffy. Did you have a – successful hunt? You look a bit pale, you should stay in tonight."

"Mum, you know I can't do that."

"Oh, how could I forget: it's your destiny. What are school and your health compared to a calling?"

"Mum, please. Can we not do that?"

Joyce opened her mouth to answer but after looking at her pale, tired child, she merely shook her head and finished her coffee.

"We seem to be having rascals around here. We have to find something to lock the bin with."

William was walking up and down the cave, his chain of thoughts broken by the noisy advent of his gang. As usual, Dave was the loudest of them all.

"William, we nearly had her! We almost got her cornered, but then, damn, there were some Gratkal demons who wanted to take her out themselves, and –"

"Shut up, you liar. Shut up. One of these days, I'll rip out your big mouth." And to prove his point, William grabbed one of the fledglings Dave brought along every night, and broke its neck.

"Now don't say I never warned you. And don't go making any more baby vampires, you nitwit."

He turned and went off to his room. Lying down on the bed, he closed his eyes and immediately found her: she was in her room, just getting ready to sleep. Ah, to sleep like a human again! As Buffy closed her eyes, William concentrated on her breathing. He didn't need to, but it felt good to breathe along with her. He was warm, and tired after a long day, and their breathing became more and more regular, and they both fell asleep.

The alarm bell had been ringing some time when Buffy finally found the strength to pull herself out of her dreams. Even after a cold shower and breakfast Buffy still felt the residue of the strangely pleasant sensations her dreams had conveyed. She had been safe, and warm. And she hadn't been alone.

First thing he did when he woke was to reach out to her. She was at school, trying to stifle a huge yawn while her teacher droned on about chemistry. She already knew about chemistry. How two elements were driven towards each other. How energy was never lost, just transformed. He could feel that she noticed him. That was good. So now he wasn't reduced to being a voyeur any longer. Now everything she did was for him.

Xander couldn't help looking at his friend. She behaved rather oddly tonight. First, she had used him as a human pole on the dance floor. Xander had finally excused himself to get her some water. Buffy had danced alone for a bit, and now she was lying on the sofa, and her hand – wait, no, no watching of that hand! Xander quickly prayed to forget what he had just seen, then he thought strongly of Cordelia, his beautiful girlfriend – that was just coming his way. "What's wrong with her? And- what is she doing with her hand!" "Cor, please, if you love me, take me away from here." Cordelia gave him a kiss, then she walked over to Buffy. "Hey, I don't want to interrupt you and your invisible lover here, but isn't it about bedtime for the both of you? Come on, I'll give you a lift." "Thanks, Cordy. I - I can't help it." Buffy began to cry. "Oh please, don't cry on my shirt. That mascara will never wash out!" Cordelia motioned to Xander to help her carrying Buffy to her car, which he did, all the while carefully avoiding "the hand".

William lay slumped on the sofa. As he was surrounded by idiots, two of them didn't even notice he was there when they came in and started to joke about their "lovesick looney of a leader". They were dust before the other one could finish his bonmot about William the bloody awful seducer.

One of David's zombie-army – the idiot called them his "childer"– a still spotty Goth, Michael or something, quickly jumped out of reach, but had the nerve to stay in the room. After a couple of minutes, William had enough of his shy glances. "What? Go and sniff some patchouli, or whatever you do with the gift of darkness ." Michael cleared his throat, then dared look at him: "You know, you really look – dead. You should eat someone soon. I have some schoolgirl left – " "Out!" William roared. Michael grew pale, then defiantly put up his head. „At least I'm being honest to you. You look shit. And – you really smell of spunk. Even as school nerd I was not as sad as you."

William grabbed the boy – and smacked him playfully on the head. "You're right, you little nitwit. Not the look to go and see a lady in, is it?"

Willow looked closely at her friend. It didn't take a bestest friend to see that Buffy had serious problems. She had lost weight and blue shadows darkened her eyes. Also, for the last ten minutes she had been sitting in the cafeteria, perfectly still with only her eyes staring into nothingness. Willow couldn't look at her miserable friend any longer. She reached out and took her hand. "Buffy. Please. Tell me." At first there was no reaction, then Buffy spoke almost inaudibly: "I can feel him. He is with me, always. He wants me, and he hates me. It's driving me crazy." Tears were running down her face, but Buffy didn't even try to hide her face. This was a nervous breakdown, Willow decided. The stress of the past weeks had been too much even for the slayer. She helped Buffy up and looked around for someone who could help. "Jonathan, please, could you drive her home?" Jonathan looked up, astonished at being talked too, but when he saw Buffy in her miserable state he just nodded and took her arm. Willow quickly excused Buffy in the office, then she went to the library. "Giles, Buffy needs help."

"She suffers from nightmares, hallucinations, lack of sleep and appetite. She claims that someone is watching her, or rather possessing her. She might be delusional, but it could also be a demon that is trying to incapacitate her. Slayers are supposed to have a natural resistance to being possessed, but-"

"It's a thrall. Another vampire. I can smell him all over her."

Giles looked at him aghast: "You can smell a thrall?"

Angel shrugged. "It's more like I get a full mental picture of him"

Giles stared at the vampire. How 200+ years old Angel managed to retain the communicative skills of a contemporary youth always escaped him. But it made him feel extremely impatient – and old.

"And - what would that picture look like?"

Angel furrowed his brow. "He's very young – much too young for a thrall like that. He must have used magic."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but for a thrall to work, he would have had to taste her blood, wouldn't he? Buffy never mentioned being bitten, and none of us noticed any bite marks on her."

"There are other ways to get her blood."

Giles stared at him, trying to grasp his meaning. "I'm afraid I don't understand"

Angel shuffled his feet. The subject was clearly uneasy with him "Her, hm, her toiletries. In the bin." Giles gasped. Angel's guilty face was enough proof to Giles to not doubt this statement.

"Good lord. So, this young vampire, he has… tasted her blood, and now he's keeping her in his thrall. So we need to find him, and then we could end this. Angel, do you reckon you could track him down?"

"I'll hit the streets, see if I can catch his scent."

While her friends went into Scooby-mode, Buffy sat in her living room and stared at the carpet. Joyce sat next to her, stroking her hair. "Buffy, won't you tell me what's wrong? Is it – is it this boy again, Angel? Buffy, please – you have to talk to me." Her daughter – she looked so fragile. Usually bouncy and full of energy, she now appeared almost catatonic. Why did it always have to be the extreme with her? Being a parent, you signed on for trouble, worry and the likes. But no one had prepared Joyce for life-or-death on a daily basis. A teenager's troubles were supposed to be all about boys and school, not world-saving. While Joyce berated the evil fate that had befallen her daughter, Buffy sat motionless, seemingly oblivious to everything around her. Something inside her head seemed to take up all her attention. Until she suddenly looked at her mom: "Mom, I want to go upstairs now."

Once she was in her room, Buffy made sure her mom had returned downstairs. Then she quickly went to the window, climbed out and jumped down. Five minutes later, she was at Richmond cemetery. A short distance away, silver hair gleamed in the moonlight. Coming closer, she could discern the yellow eyes, the rigged face of her beautiful lover. "Spike."

The form in front of her shook himself and tried – unsuccessfully – to keep the demon up front.

"I would have picked you up, but it's kinda crowded around your house."

"I'm a big girl"

"I've noticed."

"Why did you never kiss me?"

"I figured we would have loads of time later – an eternity, probably."

"Hmm" Buffy couldn't help staring at him. Even if he was a demon – he was the one she belonged to. She took one step closer towards her fate. "Kiss me now"

William looked at the girl. Finally, things were as they should be. They were together.

A shower of ashes rained down on her. She had often admired Angel's skills at fighting. And even now, one part of her applauded him for sneaking up on them, unnoticed. The other parts were screaming. Blinding pain ripped through her, as she felt her other body being blown into particles.

Much later, she could even agree with her friends: Angel had saved her from a terrible fate. She had been enthralled, and therefore she had been a helpless slave. Life still held endless opportunities for her.

And yet, sometimes it felt as though all this meant very little.

Most of us get a second chance. Others don't.


End file.
